Hogwarts College: Freshman Year
by megalowkey
Summary: AU. Harry and the gang are off to college. They face trials, tribulations, and their parents' expectations. Follow Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Draco through their first year in college. Each chapter is told from a different character's POV. Rated T for language
1. Harry Goes to College

**AN: I'm sure this idea is played out, but I wanted to add my two cents. Each chapter will be from another character's POV. I've outlined the entire first year and I'm really excited about it! I'm sure you will be too! **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! A lot is happening very fast right now, but I promise it'll slow down once I'm a few chapters in. After all, the beginning of the school year is quite hectic. **

**I don't own Harry Potter!**

Harry unpacked his belongings carefully. He still couldn't believe he was here. More than that, he was finally away from his dreadful aunt and uncle. While his cousin, Dudley, had been sent to the finest university that would take him (Uncle Vernon's alma mater), Harry had been sent to the least expensive state college the Dursleys could find. Hogwarts College wasn't much to brag about. It was the smallest state school in Vermont, and the athletics program was garbage, but Harry didn't mind much. The buildings were old and resembled a collection of castles spread out in the middle of a National Parks-protected forest. The food was rumored to be great. The professors had close relationships with the students because of the small size.

Harry had never had a close relationship before.

High school was difficult for the orphan. Harry had lost his parents seventeen years ago in a tragic car accident. His closest relatives, the Dursleys, were forced to take him into their home. They had treated him like a houseboy his whole life. He watched in envy as his cousin grew fatter on the food they refused to feed Harry. While Dudley received piles of presents each birthday and Christmas, Harry received hand-me-down clothes of Dudley's. He always had more chores than Dudley (who received _no_ chores), and was always more harsh punishments (who received _no_ punishments). It wasn't that Harry was jealous of his cousin; It was that Harry didn't even feel like part of the family.

Not only was Harry's home life a wreck, but Dudley made sure that Harry's school life was unpleasant as well. He was ostracized from his classmates because no one wanted to be on Dudley's bad side. He suffered in silence for years, always looking forward to when he could finally move out. His parents left him enough money to go to college, something he supposed was important to them so it became important to him, too. His parents weren't millionaires or anything, but they had left him a sizeable amount of money for him to claim upon his high school graduation. Nothing fancy, but enough for him to get by. He wondered if they would be proud he was finally at college.

He set his textbooks on the bookshelf he shared with his roommate, Ron Weasley. Ron hadn't arrived yet, but Harry left him enough room so he could stash his books on the shelf as well. Harry took the bed furthest away from the window. He was used to sleeping in small, dark spaces. He had slept in a broom cupboard most of his life, only upgraded to the smallest bedroom in the house (the one with no windows and a door that wouldn't open fully because an exposed pipe blocked it) when he could no longer stand upright in the cupboard. He felt safe in small spaces.

The door to his room opened, and Harry thought for a moment that a circus had blown in. Half a dozen redheads barreled into his room, each holding a duffel bag or piece of furniture. Harry backed against his bed so as to not be trampled.

"Ron, there's no time to unpack it all. You have to be at orientation soon. It says right here on your schedule." A plump redheaded woman pointed harshly at the pamphlet in her hand. She was focused on a tall, gangly boy with freckles and a long nose, who sighed in response.

"We wouldn't be late if Fred and George weren't such idiots," the boy said. Harry assumed this was Ron, his roommate. Taken aback by the mass of activity - family members were zooming in and out of the room, each with a bag in their hands that they dropped on Ron's bed - Harry sank against his bed.

"Hey! We were just trying to liven up the breakfast table," a cheeky voice shot at Ron. Harry tried to search for the source of the voice, but couldn't find it.

"Molly, would you look at this light?" an older man said, pointing at the blinking fluorescent light above them. "I think it must have been here since we went to school. Do you remember your freshman year room number?" He turned to the older woman who had been nagging Ron earlier. She looked at him gruffly.

"Arthur, this is not the time for reminiscing," she chided. She rounded on one of the other redheads, and Arthur turned to face Harry.

"Oh, you must be Harry!" the older man said. He strode towards Harry and put his hand out. Harry shook it slowly.

"Y-yeah I am," he responded. "Nice to meet you."

"Arthur Weasley, Ron's dad," Mr. Weasley said. "That's my wife, Molly. Ron is over near the window. The twins, Fred and George, are the ones helping unpack. Our other son, Percy, is settling into his RA suite upstairs. And Ginny, our daughter. She'll be coming to Hogwarts next year!" Harry's eyes darted back and forth, trying to discern each person. The twins were like blurs, running in and out of the room.

"Very nice-" one began saying.

"To meet you," the other finished.

Ginny didn't say a word to Harry. In fact, she didn't even look at him. Harry wondered if he had offended her somehow. Mrs. Weasley was fussing over Ron's belongings, intermittently checking the time on her wristwatch. Ron was looking gloomily at Harry, as though he was trying to apologize. Harry smiled back at him and shrugged.

"Ron, you had better get going," Mrs. Weasley said. "You too, Harry. It was nice to meet you, but we'll have to have a proper introduction some other time. Oh, Ron! Why don't you bring Harry over for dinner some time?"

"Okay, let's leave these two be," Mr. Weasley said, shooing his wife out the door. Ginny followed them. "Have fun and don't be stupid." Mr. Weasley directed this at Ron, but Harry felt it may have been for his benefit too.

Then, the door closed and Harry, Ron, and the twins were left in the room. Ron jumped up onto his undressed mattress and reclined against the wall.

"Sorry about that," he said to Harry. "The family can be a lot. Especially Mom."

"It's okay," Harry said, still standing stock still against his bed. The whirlwind that was the Weasleys had left just as fast as it had come, and Harry's head was still reeling.

"Listen, if you two ever need anything-" one of the twins said.

"- we're just upstairs," the other twin finished.

"Try not to bother us, though," they both said in unison. Then they were gone too.

Harry looked after them. "Do they practice that?" he asked Ron. Ron chuckled.

"I wish I could say yes," he responded. His hand closed around the pamphlet his mother had left behind. "Do we have to go to this 'orientation' thing? Like, is it mandatory?"

"Not sure," Harry said, finally sitting on his own bed, which was made up with sheets and a dark blue comforter. "But I bet they'll give us food. So...we should probably go." Harry grinned at Ron.

Ron grinned back. "I think we're gonna be friends."

"The professors here seem pretty strict," Harry said as he and his roommate trekked to the Student Building for a quick meal before heading back to their dorm. Their stomachs rumbled in anticipation.

"Percy doesn't shut up about them at home," Ron said. "He thinks they're the best professors in the country. Fred and George have a different opinion, though. They think of them as obstacles."

"Obstacles?" Harry asked, imagining an academic-themed obstacle course full of failing grades and impossible riddles.

"They're pranksters," Ron said. "Always in trouble, always trying to one-up each other. Their worst pranks are when they work together, though. Those are the ones that tend to loud, bright, and life-threatening."

The roommates walked into the Student Building. Harry stopped in his tracks. He had expected a cafeteria, complete with plastic benches and lunch trays. Instead, there were food stations, each boasting a different type of cuisine. He smelled a mixture of flavors in the air that made his mouth water. Harry vowed right then to eat his way through the whole dining hall menu before the end of the year.

He turned to see if Ron was just as spellbound as he was, but saw that Ron had already gotten in line for Italian food. Harry joined him.

"My stomach leads the way," Ron explained.

After getting their meals, they sat at their dorm's designated table. Each dorm had their own table, mostly used during special meals like Thanksgiving, the Welcome Feast, and the End of the Year Feast. Harry and Ron sat next to the other people who lived in the Gryffindor dorm, electing not to sit at one of the smaller satellite tables. They wanted to make friends, and sitting at a small table would have others thinking they preferred to be alone.

During orientation, the Gryffindor Dorm Advisor, Professor McGonagall, had explained that each dorm has its own reputation. Students were asked to take a personality test the summer before their freshman year to determine their housing for the remainder of their time at the college. The thought process behind this was that the louder, extroverted people would be placed in one dorm, the studious group would placed in another, and so on. It was meant to "encourage intellectual stimulation among peers," but Ron explained that it was to keep all the troublemakers away from people who actually wanted to work.

From what Harry gathered, Gryffindors were the troublemakers - brave, loud, and always seeking danger. Harry didn't think that description exactly applied to him, but Ron told him that his whole family was in Gryffindor and not all of them were like that. Hufflepuff was for people who wanted to make long-lasting connections. They were loyal and hard-working. They used their interpersonal skills to help their future careers. Ravenclaws were dedicated to their studies above anything else. "Witty and wise," was how Ron had described them, "like that one kid in class who knows all the answers, but also has you laughing at some really smart joke." The final dorm was Slytherin, who were full of ambitious and cunning students. Harry had seen a few Slytherin students walking out of their dorm earlier that day and noticed they seemed quite arrogant.

Harry looked across the dining hall, surveying the different tables to confirm the stereotypes he had formed in the past few hours. The older Gryffindors were laughing loudly and yelling across the room to each other. The Hufflepuffs flitted across their table, saying hello to old friends and making new ones. The Ravenclaws were either focused on reading - _what could they be reading? The semester hadn't even started yet! -_ or had their heads bent together, talking quickly. The Slytherins looked coldly at the other tables. Harry met eyes with one Slytherin boy with white blond hair. The blond Slytherin sneered at him, and Harry turned away from him quickly, looking at Ron instead.

It was then that Harry saw a football flying towards the back of Ron's head. Without thinking, Harry jumped up and caught it in his chest before it collided with Ron. He wrapped his arms around the ball tight.

An older Gryffindor boy came rushing up to Harry. "Ah fuck," he said. "Sorry about that. Should've warned you." He grabbed the ball back from Harry and turned to walk away, before swiveling his head around. "That was a good catch."

Harry grinned sheepishly. Ron looked furious. "Thanks," Harry said.

The older boy turned to face Harry and Ron again. "I'm Oliver. Oliver Wood," he said. "I run the Campus Sports Leagues around here. Are you into sports, uh... What's your name?"

"Harry," he said. "I mean, I've watched all types of sports. And played some in gym class."

Oliver looked him up and down. "Well, you're not really built to play sports," he said. Harry instinctively tried to make his scrawny frame bigger. "Listen, I'm graduating in May. I need someone to take over my job for me. You want it?"

Harry laughed incredulously. This boy whom he had never met was just throwing him a job for catching a football? He looked to Ron for reassurance, who was just as shocked.

"Um...what?" Harry asked.

Oliver grinned. "I'm looking for a freshman to replace me," he said. "And, honestly, I'd rather it be a Gryffindor. Call it pride, or whatever, but it's good work." He paused. "Here, take my number. Text me if you want it."

He typed his number into Harry's phone, then looked at Ron. "Hey, aren't you Fred and George's little brother?" Oliver asked. Ron turned red.

"Yeah, they work with you," he replied.

"Great guys," Oliver said, still grinning confidently. "They'd love to see you in the program too, I'm sure." He turned back to Harry. "Offer won't last long, so you'd better make a decision soon." With that, he left.

Harry sat back down next to Ron without a word. The two began eating again as though none of it had happened.

Later that night in their dorm room, though, Harry laid in bed thinking about Oliver's offer. It seemed too good to be true. He'd never had a job before, but he was certainly hard-working and would need the pocket change.

"Should I text Oliver?" Harry asked Ron in the darkness.

Ron grumbled, which Harry took as a 'yes.' He got out his phone and texted Oliver to tell him he wanted the job.

**AN: Thoughts? I THRIVE off criticism, so let me know. I really hate writing from Harry's perspective (I can never live up to JKR), but next chapter is Hermione, which is more my wheelhouse. Review, please!**


	2. Hermione Joins a Club

Hermione wasn't known as a "popular" girl in high school. No matter how many clubs she joined, or how high her grades were, the other students took it as their personal mission to terrorize her. "Hermione Stranger," "Squirrel," and "The Beaver" were some of Hermione's least favorite nicknames.

But she showed them. She graduated at the top of her class with a full ride to any state school. She was ready to leave her tormentors in the past. Over the summer, she had done extensive treatments to her hair to make it less frizzy (the effects of which were only noticed by Hermione) and had finally convinced her parents to get her clear teeth aligners to correct her two front teeth which stood out a bit too prominently for her liking. While Hermione wasn't particularly concerned with her appearance, other people certainly were. College was going to be a new start, so she had to be a new Hermione.

She had a plan. The plan began at the Activities Fair, which was held during her first week of classes at Hogwarts College. Thus far, she had been enjoying her classes, but she felt she needed more stimulation. Plus, joining clubs and activities meant that she would be meeting new people, and, hopefully, new friends.

She started at the Pre-Law Club table. She planned to announce her Pre-Law major later that semester, so it seemed a reasonable step to join the club too.

"Interested in being a lawyer?" The girl standing in front of the table asked as Hermione approached her.

Hermione nodded and held out her hand. The girl took it and they shook firmly. "My name is Hermione Granger," she introduced herself.

"Victoria French," the girl responded. "I'm the recruitment director for the club. You may have met our President, Penelope Clearwater. She's the TA for most of the Pre-Law classes."

"Oh no, I'm not enrolled in any Pre-Law classes yet," Hermione said. "It's only my first semester and I wanted to get the Gen Ed credits out of the way first."

Penelope frowned. "Well, you know, if you're really serious about law, you should start taking classes as soon as possible. Of course, you'll be getting LSAT practice in the club, which is helpful." Penelope began rambling through her introduction speech, but Hermione tuned out. Was she already behind on the coursework required to be a lawyer? She tried to control the emotion on her face, but felt her nostrils flare in panic. Penelope gestured to a laptop, placed on the table, and Hermione hurriedly filled out her contact information.

More panicked than before, she made her way around the decorated gym, eyeing every poster that caught her attention. A political action group practically pinned her down until she signed their roster. She signed on for Student Senate as well, hoping that it would be better than her prior experiences with Student Senate. The blond-haired boy she had met at the table seemed very proud to announce he was running for the Freshman Representative, which had annoyed Hermione. Another club here and there, and Hermione realized she was signed up for five new clubs within the hour.

She passed by a table filled with raucous students, tossing balls and frisbees to each other. Each student had a smile on their face and a colorful shirt with the words 'Campus Sports Leagues' emblazoned across the back. Hermione had never been fond of sports, so she elected to skip that table.

As she passed, a voice called out to her.

"Hey! Sign up for a club sport! No payment or team necessary!"

Hermione turned and found herself face-to-face with a boy she recognized from her science class. His black hair stuck up at odd angles and his glasses hung crookedly on his flushed face.

"Oh, I know you," he said. "You're in my class - the one with Professor Sprout. And you live in Gryffindor, too, right?" He stuck out his hand and Hermione instinctually shook it. "I'm Harry."

"Hermione," she said with a hesitant smile. "How does this work?" She motioned her hand in the general direction of the Campus Sports table. "How can you play if you don't have a team?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up more. Hermione could give him a few tips about hair care. "We always have staff on hand to play," Harry explained. "Teams are divided by dorms - it's how we get House Points. So if people show up and don't have enough for a team, we can add some staff to the team. It makes it more fun, you know? And you get to meet people you wouldn't know before. I think it's kind of cool."

Hermione pondered this for a second. The adrenaline and emotion that came along with playing a sport often created camaraderie between teammates. It was a clever way to get people exercising and to create bonds, she supposed. It didn't change the fact, though, that Hermione just wasn't interested in sports.

"It's a good idea," she said. "But I don't think it's for me. You'd be more likely to find me in a library than on a football field."

Harry laughed. Hermione noted that it didn't sound forced, like he was trying to sell her on the idea of joining his club and was just buttering her up. His laugh was genuine and it wasn't directed _at_ her. Hermione cracked a smile.

"Well, if you ever change your mind, you're always welcome," Harry responded. "It was nice to finally meet you, Hermione."

"You too, Harry," she said. She was flustered that someone was truly being nice to her with no real ulterior motive. It felt strange.

She chalked it up to the fact that they had a test in Botany next week.

Walking on, she came across the Debate Club table. Several students milled about in front of the table, each discussing a newsworthy topic. Hermione eavesdropped on the nearest conversation.

"Marijuana has significant medical benefits, yes, but we also have to think of the economical impact of legalizing it recreationally," a boy with long, dark dreadlocks said.

The brown-haired girl talking to him, huffed. "We already have a problem with Big Pharma in the United States and the government funding recreational marijuana use would just extend the issues further," she retorted.

"Well, Big Pharma wouldn't be a problem if we had universal health care," the boy said.

The girl laughed. "Lee, you've got to stop spiraling during your arguments," she advised. You made some really good points, but you ruined them by changing the topic."

Lee groaned. "I just got so mad," he said with a sigh.

Hermione approached them. "Hi, I couldn't help but overhear-" she began, but the girl cut her off.

"Probably because this jackass got too heated," the girl said with a smile. "I'm Katie Bell. Are you thinking of joining the team?"

"Yes, I used to do debate in high school," Hermione said. "It's going to be useful when I become a lawyer."

"Oh, yeah, we have plenty of Pre-Law kids in the club," Lee said. He locked eyes with someone behind Hermione and grinned wide. "Thought you'd walk by without saying 'hey,' huh?" he said to the person behind Hermione.

Hermione turned and saw a tall redheaded boy walk towards them. His face turned red under his freckles. "Hey Lee, Katie," the boy said. "How was your summer?"

"Don't give us that, Ron," Lee said, wrapping his arm across Ron's shoulders roughly. Ron had to bend down so he could reach Lee's height. "Your brothers said you'd be here today, but they didn't say you got so tall."

Ron shrugged him off and took a step back. "Yeah, well, they must be jealous that I'm taller than them now," he said with an awkward laugh. Hermione thought he didn't look very comfortable being there. She wondered if it was because he didn't like being around his brothers' friends, or if he didn't like being compared to his brothers.

"Do you know Hermione?" Katie said. "She's about to sign up for the team. You should too, Ron."

Ron and Hermione locked eyes. She thought she had seen him in the Gryffindor common room or dining hall in the past week, but had always thought he was older.

"Hi, I'm Hermione," she said, extending her hand. Ron gave it a look before hesitantly shaking it.

"Ron," he responded curtly. He dropped Hermione's hand almost immediately.

"Ooh, why don't you guys try your hand at debating?" Katie suggested with excitement. Ron and Hermione shot each other an annoyed look.

Lee stepped in. "They don't even know what to debate about," he said. "Plus, I'm sure neither can give a good argument. They're newbies."

Hermione gave him a challenging look. "I participated in debate all throughout high school," she said. "Our team won the championship twice." Katie looked impressed.

"Well, living in a house with five brothers and an annoying sister taught me how to debate," Ron said defiantly. "I didn't win any championships, but I can probably hold my own against you." Hermione had not known this boy for very long, but she found herself loathing him in that moment. Lee and Katie, on the other hand, looked positively delighted.

"Okay, I have an easy one," Katie said. "Why don't you debate which dorm is the best? Ron is Gryffindor, obviously, and Hermione is Ravenclaw, right?"

Hermione looked at the brunette. "Ravenclaw?" she asked. "No, I'm a Gryffindor."

All three of their eyebrows shot up. "A Gryffindor? Really?" Katie asked, incredulously.

"You just didn't seem the Gryffindor type," Ron said. "You struck me as someone who spent most of your time with your nose stuck in a book." He laughed at his own jeer, but Hermione puffed up.

"Do Gryffindors not know how to read?" she retorted. "Do Ravenclaws have a monopoly on literacy?"

"No, uhh...that's not what I meant," Ron said, his neck going red. "It's just that Gryffindor is home of the brave, and all that. Usually brave people are out in the world actually doing something. Ravenclaws tend to hole up and read about what Gryffindors do."

Lee and Katie both let out a_ whoosh_.

"Is that so?" Hermione said. "I'm sure Garrick Ollivander, the famous technology creator begs to differ. Or Gilderoy Lockhart, the world-traveler. Or even Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of the motorized scooter."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Gryffindor has famous alumni, too, you know," he began, but Hermione cut him off.

"Albus Dumbledore, the President of the college. Muldoon Cragg, Gryffindor Dorm Advisor from 1972 through 1994. Valeria Myriadd, professor at Hogwarts College," Hermione shot at him. "Gryffindors can be dedicated to education, just as much as Ravenclaws can be adventurous. Don't be so bigoted to believe that each dorm _has_ to live by its stereotype."

Ron's mouth was slightly agape as Hermione finished her informed rant. She was breathing heavily, but a smile formed on her face when she saw Lee and Katie wearing matching expressions of awe.

"You really did your research," Katie commented.

"I do a lot of research," Hermione admitted. She turned to the table and signed her name on the roster for the Debate Club. "I'll see you at the meeting next week!" She turned on her heel, all three pairs of eyes on her. Her face was warm, but she was proud she had told that big oaf off. Maybe it hadn't won her any friends, but it had won her the respect of Lee and Katie, at least. And really, isn't that better than friends?

**AN: Review please!**


	3. Ron Has a Bad Week

Ron raised his eyebrows as the bushy-haired girl walked away from him. She was smart - _really_ smart. Why wouldn't he assume that she was in Ravenclaw? She should take it as a compliment, really.

She had made him look like such an idiot. In front of his brothers' friends. God, Fred and George were going to tease him mercilessly for this later. Katie politely hid her laughter behind her hand, but Lee laugh raucously.

"She showed you, little Weasley," he laughed. Katie laughed loudly. Ron's entire face turned maroon.

"Shut up," he snarled.

"Oh, come on, Ron," Katie said, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Why don't you sign up for Debate Club? We'll teach you how to really argue."

"Yeah, you could use the practice," Lee said, a grin across his face.

Ron huffed. "Yeah, no thanks," he said. "I'd rather not have to go through that humiliation again."

Katie shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said. "But don't you want a rematch against that girl? I mean, I would. She decimated you."

"Absolutely murdered you," Lee chimed in.

"And what better revenge than to debate with her again and actually win?" Katie finished.

Ron mulled this over. He wouldn't mind going toe-to-toe with Hermione again. It wasn't that he hated losing to a girl - it was just _this _girl. She got under his skin. Something about her just made him want to argue with her until she conceded. He wanted to prove he was better.

Maybe that was just the competitive Weasley spirit.

"Fine," Ron said, signing the roster Katie held up for him. "But I don't want you clogging my inbox with emails every day. I'll report it as spam, I swear."

Katie smiled. "No spam here, little Weasley," she said. "Just another chance for you to fight with your girlfriend in a safe space."

Ron's eyes widened. "S-she's not my girlfriend!" He sputtered. Katie and Lee laughed again, and Ron walked away angrily. He had football tryouts today, and couldn't be bothered with their teasing any longer.

He wasn't a particularly athletic person, but he wanted to be part of a team. He wanted the glory that came with winning a championship, crowds rushing the field, and the celebrations. He wanted people to chant his name as he made a touchdown. He wanted his brother, Charlie, who had been the college's star kicker for years, to be proud of him. He wanted his coach to push him, and to be proud of him when he played a good game. He wanted to stand out. He wanted people to know his name.

He played hard through tryouts. The late summer heat beat down on the team. Every inch of Ron's body was covered in sweat and he felt some nasty bruises forming on his side and shoulders. He got hit more times than he could count. He fumbled the football as the quarterback threw them.

At the end of the practice, the coach took him aside.

"Your brother was a great player," the coach said. "One of the best kickers I've seen here. But you don't have his talent, little Weasley. Don't come to tryouts tomorrow." With that, he gruffly slapped Ron's back. Ron winced, hoping the coach didn't notice.

That night, he took a long shower to wash away the grime that had set on his body. He didn't think he sucked on the field. Sure, he wasn't as good as McLaggen, whom the coach praised throughout the whole tryout. But Ron wasn't the worst. He hoped.

"You should try out for another team," Harry advised as the two sat in the common room. Ron had been trying to write a paper, but could only focus on football.

"I really like football, though," Ron said. "Maybe I should just give up and resign myself to the fact that I'm just a clumsy idiot."

"That's the first idiotic thing you've ever said," Harry said. Ron gave him a look, so he continued. "Okay, the first idiotic thing _I've_ ever heard you say. I'm sure you say stupid shit all the time." He grinned and Ron gave him a small smile back. "One of the guys I work with said the baseball team is holding open tryouts tomorrow. Why don't you try it? You could catch a fly ball easily with those long arms."

Ron didn't say anything in response. He could try out for another team. Maybe he'd be good at baseball, after all.

By the next Friday, he had come to the conclusion that he _was not_ good at baseball. Or soccer. Or basketball. He had even tried for swimming, and ended up almost drowning. He huffed, throwing himself on what he had decided was his couch in the common room. Harry sat eating his dinner in the armchair next to Ron.

"Not gonna be the next Michael Phelps, I take it," Harry said, not even looking up from his laptop. He handed Ron a fry. Ron took it angrily.

"I'm done," he said. "No more sports for me. I'm going to live a life of leisure and get fat."

"That's the spirit," Harry said, only half-listening.

Ron propped himself up on his elbow. "What are you working on?" he asked Harry.

"Setting up a tennis tournament," Harry responded. He looked up at Ron. "It's the first assignment that Wood's given me and I want to do it right."

Ron grabbed a handful of Harry's fries. "Don't ask me to play," he said. "I'd probably break my racquet over my partner's head accidentally, or something."

"Wasn't planning on it," Harry said.

Ron lowered his head so it rested on the arm of the couch, and ate his fries one at a time. His mother had called him twice already, worried if he was fitting in at school and if he had made any friends. He had lied to her, saying he met the football coach and thought he would make the team. It seemed like a small lie at the time, something his mother wouldn't even question. But now Ron felt guilty. If he had made another team, he could just tell his mother that he found another sport he liked better, and she would be proud of him. After not making any teams, however, Ron wasn't sure what she would say when he inevitably told her he didn't make the football team. His brothers were all so successful during college - Bill was Student Senate president, Charlie was a star football player, Percy was an RA and the apple of every professor's eye, and the twins were popular and involved in a bunch of clubs. All Ron had to brag about was that he had joined the Debate Club (but hadn't even been to one meeting) and he had yet to find anyone who could beat him at a game of chess.

He felt like college was shaping up to be a lot like high school. He had always lived in his brothers' shadows. The teachers compared him to his brothers every chance they got. The kids at school preferred his brothers to Ron. He had gotten used to the nickname "little Weasley," but it still hurt him that that was the only thing he was known for. He wanted something that was just his. He wanted to make a name for himself at this stupid state school he was forced to go to because it was the only college his parents could afford. With his legacy status and the financial aid afforded to his family, Ron had no choice. He couldn't even apply to other schools. Not only were application fees too expensive, but he knew he wouldn't get a cheaper education anywhere else. His own college experience wasn't his own. Everyone in his family had lived through it. Every inch of Hogwarts College had 'Weasley' on it, like a layer of grime.

He received a notification on his phone and quickly unlocked it, hoping beyond hope it was from a coach who had retracted their denial. It was an email, but it was from Lee Jordan, reminding Debate Club participants that their weekly meeting was happening tomorrow. Ron locked his phone and tossed it on the couch by his feet. He grabbed another handful of Harry's fries.

**AN: Aw love me some Ron! Review please!**


	4. Neville Starts a Club

Neville's phone buzzed and he fumbled with it for a moment before finally unlocking it. It was an email from the president of the Eco Club. He skimmed the message, hoping for good news, but was disappointed. He huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket, and went back to his laptop. The library was quiet at this time of night. People were either eating dinner with their friends, or practicing with their teams, or just socializing anywhere other than the library. Neville didn't join them, though. Almost a month into college and he had yet to make one friend. High school hadn't been much better, mind you. He wasn't sure if he naturally gave a 'loner' vibe (which would have been cool - very James Dean - except he was more like Edward Scissorhands - an absolute pariah). Whatever vibe he was giving off clearly marked him as un-friendable.

But that was okay. Neville wasn't much interested in other people anyway. His Gran always worried about his lack of friends, but he would tell her that he had his plants. They were the only friends he needed, really. They were always there, they always listened to him, and - best of all - they wouldn't leave him when he was sad.

His mother had given Neville his first plant when he was ten. At first, she had helped him take care of it and gave him books about plant-care. Soon after he got it, he had to take care of the spider plant on his own. It grew so large that he had to re-pot it several times in the past seven years. Now it sat on the windowsill in his dorm, which annoyed his roommates, Seamus and Dean, because it was so large. What annoyed Neville were the joint roaches they left in the plant's pot.

Neville wanted nothing more than to find a club on campus that shared his love for plants. He hoped he would find something at the activities fair, but the closest he came was the Eco Club, which, according to the email he had just received, 'focused on helping the environment by cleaning up litter and lobbying for eco-friendly alternatives on campus.' While commendable, it wasn't exactly what Neville was hoping for.

His phone rang and Neville fished it out of his pocket. It was Gran, right on time for their weekly phone call. He took a breath before he answered.

"Hi Gran," he said.

"I was hoping you would be too busy with your friends to answer," she replied curtly. "Clearly, I got my hopes up."

Neville deflated. "I- I'm having trouble with that," he said softly so that the girls who had been gossiping for an hour nearby wouldn't hear him.

"Speak up!" his grandmother reprimanded. "My hearing isn't what it used to be."

"I'm in the library," he said. "I don't want to be too loud."

His grandmother sighed exaggeratedly. "Have you spoken to Minerva yet?" she asked. "I told her about you ages ago and she'd like to meet you."

"N-no," Neville said. Minerva McGonagall was his Dorm Advisor and Neville was quite intimidated by her. "I've been very busy, you know. A lot of work."

"Well with all the free time you have _not_ trying to make friends could be used to go introduce yourself to her. She used to be one of my students, and she was a good friend of your parents."

Neville gulped when she mentioned his parents.

"I'll set up a meeting with her," he promised. "I've really got to go, Gran. I'm working on my history paper and it's due soon. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

His grandmother sighed again. "Leaving things to the last minute again?" she criticized. "Very well, I'll call again tomorrow, but I hope by that point you've made some friends and are too busy to talk to me."

She hung up abruptly and Neville leaned back in his chair.

~ooOoo~

The next day Neville showed up to Professor McGonagall's office hours. In addition to being the Gryffindor Dorm Advisor, she was also the Head of the Political Science Department. Neville was sure that she would be too busy for him - _hoped_, to be more accurate - but her door was open and she was reading when he walked into her office.

He knocked once on the open door and McGonagall tore her eyes away from her book to look at him. Her cat-like eyes narrowed in scrutiny, before filling with recognition.

"Longbottom?" she asked. "You're Frank and Alice's son, Neville, yes?"

"Yes, Professor," he said.

"Come in, please," McGonagall said, gesturing for him to sit in front of her desk on one of the two plush chairs. Neville sat, shifting uncomfortably. "Can I help you with something?"

"W-well, Professor, my grandmother wanted me to introduce myself to you," he said, looking around McGonagall's room. The walls were lined with books. The three large windows flooded light into the cozy room, and the stone fireplace had four logs perfectly placed in its mouth.

"And so you have," McGonagall said. "It is very much like Augusta to sending her grandson on errands for her."

Neville gaped. No one spoke about his grandmother with such candor. McGonagall peered at him with a small smile. "I-it's not an errand, really," he corrected. "I think she just wanted-"

"Oh, what she wanted was to let her former student know that her grandson was at Hogwarts," McGonagall surmised. "And I'm sure she hoped I would give you special treatment on something or another. I owe that woman my career, but she cannot hold that over me. I do not give special treatment to any student, no matter who they are related to."

Neville fumbled for words. "N-no, I don't need any - any special treatment or anything," he said. "I d-didn't mean to give you that impression."

McGonagall smiled. "Longbottom, I don't think you came to my office to beg for a passing grade or a single in Gryffindor Dorm," McGonagall said. "But your grandmother tends to have ulterior motives, as I'm sure you know. But, enough about that. Let me get to know you on my own. What classes are you taking this semester?"

Neville was afraid to speak. He feared anything he said would be suspected of ulterior motives. Finally, he answered, "History with P-professor Binns, English with Professor Quirrel, and two Botany classes with Professor Sprout."

McGonagall put a bookmark in her book, and placed it on her desk. She leaned forward. "And have you declared a major?"

"N-not yet," he replied. "But I'm thinking about Earth Science. Something to do with plants."

McGonagall laced her fingers together. "And what clubs are you part of? Eco Club, I should think."

"Actually, no." He paused. Perhaps McGonagall could help him with his dilemma. He had to choose his words carefully, so McGonagall wouldn't think he was asking a favor of her. He didn't want to prove her suspicions about him right. "I actually am having a problem with that, and I could use your advice."

McGonagall lifted a brow, but said nothing. Neville continued. "I was thinking about starting a club dedicated to growing plants in the Greenhouse. Maybe even start a farm on campus. What would I need to do for that?"

"That's very ambitious of you," McGonagall said. "First, you would need an advisor. Professor Sprout may be able to help you with that. I know she's been asking for help in the Greenhouse for years. A club like yours would certainly be welcome. Next, you need members. I can send a blank roster to you. You will need ten signatures from prospective members. I'm sure your friends would be able to help you out."

Neville didn't bother to mention his distinct lack of friends. "Is that all?" he asked, feigning confidence.

"No, you must also present your club in front of the Student Senate. They will decide if it will benefit the student body," she continued. "I do not know how they will vote, but I wish you luck."

With that, McGonagall stood up and gestured towards the door. Neville took the hint and stood up as well. As he left, McGonagall called after him, "Tell your grandmother I appreciated the visit, but would rather have her leave me alone." Neville gritted his teeth. He would not be relaying that message to Gran.

~ooOoo~

Once he had printed the roster, he began trolling the Gryffindor common room for potential members. Professor Sprout had been ecstatic about the formation of a gardening club, but no one else seemed to match her enthusiasm. Dean and Seamus had laughed themselves silly when Neville asked for their signatures. He had left the room quickly, hoping some of the other Gryffindors would be more welcoming.

He took a look around the common room. Students lounged on the couch watching television. They talked in groups at the tables, eating dinner with each other or laughing about their classes. He recognized the two boys who lived in the room next to him eating their dinner together, and decided to try his luck there first.

"Hi guys," he said, less confidently than he hoped. Both their heads turned. "My name's Neville. I live in the room next door to you."

The redhead seemed more interested in his meal, but the black-haired boy smiled at Neville. "Hey, I'm Harry," he said. "This is Ron." The redhead grunted in acknowledgement.

"I-I'm starting a club and was hoping you'd both sign up," Neville said, thrusting the roster towards Harry. He fished a pen out of his pocket.

"Wha' kinda club?" Ron said, his mouth full.

"Gardening Club," Neville said with a bright smile. He hoped his enthusiasm would convince them to join. But the looks on both their faces were not promising.

"I'm not much of a gardener," Harry said, apologetically, handing the paper back to Neville. Neville turned to Ron, who was taking another bite out of his pizza.

"S'not for me, bro," he said.

Neville's face fell. "O-oh, I understand," he said. "Not many people like plants, but I really do. I just need ten signatures to start the club, but I can't find anyone who is interested. You wouldn't happen to know anybody-"

"Nope!" Ron said. "Sorry."

Neville nodded his head and turned away from them, when he was abruptly stopped.

"Well _I_ like plants," a girl said, standing in front of him. "I'll sign your roster. I don't know if I'll have the time to go - I'm part of a lot of clubs, you know - but you should at least get the chance to do what you love. Hermione Granger, by the way." She held her hand out and Neville shook it.

He handed her the roster and she leaned against the table Harry and Ron were sitting at to sign it. Ron looked at her with disgust.

"Uh, thank you," Neville said when Hermione handed him the paper back.

She rounded on Harry and Ron. "You know, you should help Neville out," she advised. "Even if you don't go to the club meetings, you could at least sign his roster so it looks like other people are interested."

Ron rolled his eyes, but Harry mulled the thought over. He reached for the paper. "Anything for a fellow Gryffindor, I guess," Harry said with a smile. He slid the paper to Ron.

"I've killed every plant I've touched," Ron said with a sour look as he signed. "So don't come begging for me to help. I'm sure _Hermione_ will be a much better club member than me." He looked at her pointedly, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Come on, Neville," she said, snaking her arm around his. "I'll help you get your signatures. Oh, Lavender! Come sign this!" She rushed off after the girl, Neville in tow.

After an hour, Neville had his ten signatures. While he was sure that none of the people Hermione had coerced into signing would actually come to club meetings, he was happy he could at least present his club in front of Senate. Plus, he had missed his daily phone call from Gran. He had been too busy making friends, so she couldn't really fault him, after all.

**AN: Neville is a bean and that's all I have to say about it!**

**Review please!**


	5. Hermione Defends a Friend

"I call this meeting to order," the president of Student Senate said, banging a gavel on the long table in front of him. Hermione recognized him as Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor boys' RA. Next to him was the vice president, a Ravenclaw Hermione didn't recognize, followed by the secretary, Penelope Clearwater, the parliamentarian, a Hufflepuff, and the treasurer, a Slytherin. Not that house allegiance mattered much to Hermione, but it seemed to matter to everyone else. How could a personality exam taken the summer before freshman year decide an entire person's collegiate outcome? Even though Hermione was critical of the housing system, others - like Ron Weasley - swore by it. She had heard him talking loudly in the common room about it on multiple occasions.

The secretary called the roll, and Hermione sat quietly, waiting for it to end. She didn't have a position as a senator, but she hoped for one. Even though her time in Student Senate back in high school hadn't gone as planned, she hoped collegiate Student Senate would prove to be more welcoming. She already saw some familiar faces in the crowd. All of the clubs she signed up for were paying off.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," Percy said, reading notes off of his laptop. "First, I'd like to remind you that we are looking for candidates for Freshman Representative. This position is held by a freshman. You do not have to be a senator to apply, but once you are voted in by your peers, you will become one. You must attend all senate meetings, as well as officer meetings. You can submit your cover letter, resumé, and your candidacy sign-up sheet to Penelope. Remember that your sign-up sheet needs one hundred signatures."

As Percy spoke, Hermione furiously took notes. She wanted the position so much, she felt like she would burst. As Freshman Representative, she would be a shoo-in for future leadership positions within the senate. She had already come up with a campaign slogan - "Vote for the best so you won't be stressed" - and had a notebook of ideas she wanted to bring to the rest of the officers. She had passed her sign-up sheet around in all of her classes since the beginning of the year, and had the writing help desk check her cover letter and resumé twice. After the senate meeting concluded today, she planned to hand all three to Penelope.

The meeting moved slowly. There was a leaky water fountain in the science building, which had caused some students to slip. Percy vowed to have Facilities fix it. By 'Facilities,' he was referring to the scruffy, ill-tempered man Hermione had the misfortune of meeting once before. His name was Mr. Filch, and he seemed to hate every student he laid eyes on. Hermione shuddered, thinking about Percy having to actually have a conversation with him.

"We'll now hear from a prospective club president," Percy said. "Neville Longbottom is here tonight to present a new club - the Gardening Club!"

Neville walked quickly towards the podium slightly to the left of the officers' table. He had a stack of papers in his hand, which he gingerly placed on the podium before wiping the sweat off his palms on his jeans.

"H-hi everyone," he began. "I'm N-Neville Longbottom. I'm a freshman, and I love plants." He stopped and looked around the room. His face turned a shade redder, and Hermione winced. He looked quickly down at his notes. "Professor Sprout has a greenhouse for Botany classes. The club would m-meet once a week and help her weed and water the plants. We'd also help plant new ones. Um…" He shuffled his notes. "We don't need a budget, really. Anything we need money for will come from the Earth Science Department. W-we would be a real help to Professor Sprout, and…" He wiped his hands on his pants again before flipping to another page. "A-and club members will learn a-about new plants and how t-to care for those plants."

He looked up, his face damp and red. There was a pause before Percy said, "Are there any questions?"

Some people murmured quietly. A hand shot into the air.

A blond boy stood up. Hermione noted that he was the same boy who had annoyed her at the activities fair with his big talk about being a shoo-in for Freshman Representative. "Draco Malfoy, freshman. Longbottom, is it?" he said with a snide smile. "Has anyone expressed any _actual_ interest in this club? We all know that _you_ love plants, but no one else does." He barked a laugh to the two large boys next to him. They laughed along with him.

Neville paused before answering. "I, um...I have signatures from people who are interested," he said.

"Yes, well, how many of those signatures did you forge?" Draco asked with another laugh. A few other people joined in the laughter this time. Hermione felt her forehead get hot.

"I- N-none of them!" Neville defended, nervously. "I swear!" This made even more people laugh outright.

Draco put a hand on his hip. "And what will you water the plants with?" he asked. "While you may produce enough sweat to water all the plants in the greenhouse, I don't think the salinity level will help them grow much." Neville gaped when the whole room exploded into laughter.

Hermione stood up, her fists balled and her face red in rage. "That's enough!" she yelled. The room quieted to look at her. "Hermione Granger, freshman. Draco, obviously you think it's a waste of time for Neville to start a gardening club, but he doesn't! It's not right for you to bully him like this, and you should all be ashamed of yourselves for laughing." Her eyes traveled across the room. "Neville came to ask for our help in creating a club. He didn't come here to be mocked by the people who are supposed to help him. He doesn't need money from the senate budget and he's gained enough interest from other people to be able to present his club in front of us, as he said." She looked at Neville, who seemed close to tears. "I know it's not my place, but if there are no other questions, we should vote. And I'd like to say, as a voice of this student body, that I think Gardening Club could be a lot of fun as well as informative. Not only does gardening reduce stress, but it encourages a healthy lifestyle." She paused, regaining her composure. "Even though I don't get a vote, I just thought you should have more information."

She sat back down quickly, her eyes darting to Draco. He was still standing, gaping at her. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but sat down when Percy gave him a look.

"Hermione is right," Percy said. "Unless anyone has anything they would like to add, let's vote." He paused slightly, but no hands went up. With that, he called for a vote.

It was a close vote, but Neville had gotten his club. After the meeting was adjourned, Hermione rushed to Neville and threw her arms around him.

"Oh, Neville, you did it!" she said, hugging him tightly.

He pulled away, a huge grin across his face. "Thank you so much," he said. "The way you stood up for me...I don't know many people who would do that."

Hermione blushed. "That Draco guy is awful." She scanned the room for his blond hair, and caught him handing papers to Penelope. Hermione's eyes narrowed. He was still running for Freshman Representative, then. Hermione huffed, then turned back to Neville. "Congratulations again. I'll see you later, okay? I have to hand in my candidacy papers to Penelope."

"Well, you have my vote," Neville said as Hermione walked purposefully towards Penelope. She smiled to herself.

"You should know that my father held this position when he went to Hogwarts," Draco said to Penelope as Hermione walked up behind him.

Penelope gave him a tight smile. "I don't decide who wins, you know," she said. "Your classmates will have to vote for you."

Draco gave her a confident smile. "I'm not worried about that," he said.

"Penelope, I have my forms for you," Hermione interrupted him. She was sure that Draco was going to make a snide comment before Penelope smiled at Hermione.

"Oh, good, I was hoping you'd run," she said, taking the papers from Hermione. Draco sneered. "That was very kind of you to stand up for your friend earlier."

Hermione puffed out her chest. "Yes, I don't like seeing people bullying others," she said, giving a pointed look to Draco. He huffed and walked away quickly. Hermione and Penelope giggled. Hermione spent most of life getting bullied, and she wasn't going to stand for it any longer.

"You'd be a good Rep," Penelope said, filing Hermione's papers into a binder. "Good luck!"

Hermione smiled and nodded in gratitude before heading out of the room. She thought she might get dinner before going back to the common room.

Right outside the door, though, Draco stood with his two friends. They looked more intimidating when they were standing.

"She's not winning popularity contests any time soon," Draco said. "I've heard about that girl and everyone says she's too bossy and annoying for her own good."

"You have the Rep position in the bag," one of the boys grunted.

Draco smiled. "Of course I do," he said. "My father doesn't contribute to this school for _philanthropy_, after all." The three of them laughed and Hermione walked away quickly. She wanted to win this election, but after overhearing the three Slytherins talking about it made her _need_ to win.


	6. Draco Talks to His Father

"Of course, father," Draco Malfoy said through gritted teeth as he ended the call. He stood cradling the phone in his hand, as though it were a fragile bird. Suddenly, his hand tightened its grip and his arm acted of its own accord, throwing the phone roughly against his bed. Draco let out a noise that was halfway between a growl and a shriek. He strode from the middle of his dormitory to his desk, where he proceeded to swipe every book and paper from its surface in a quick motion. He kicked his desk chair, regretting it almost instantly as a pain shot through his foot at the contact. He threw himself onto his bed.

His father always knew how to make him feel like a child.

Even now, when he was eighteen and living away from home, his father knew exactly what to say to get under his skin. He didn't relish the temper tantrums that inevitably happened after every phone call with his father, but they allowed him to blow off some steam, at least.

He wasn't sure if it was worse when he was younger, and was still naive to the fact that his father could manipulate him so easily. When Lucius Malfoy said jump, he would jump. He had seen his mother do it, and every other person around him, for that matter. He grew up thinking it was right to allow his father control his life. Everyone's parents ran their lives, right?

But high school was hard for Draco. He saw his peers begin making their own decisions. He saw them growing up, beginning their new futures outside of their parents. They carved out a path for themselves. That was something Draco could never do with his father. Everyone else around him got to choose what they wanted to do after graduation. Most went to college (he went to a very exclusive boarding school, that led most of their students into Ivy League colleges, after all), some took a year off, and some even went straight into a career.

But Draco was forced to go to his father's alma mater. Draco had spent most of his formative years on this campus, led along by his father who was a beneficiary of the school. He had green and silver incorporated into his wardrobe since he was born, for God's sake. It was always expected that he would go to Hogwarts.

Because that's what his father said.

And everyone always obeyed _Lucius Malfoy._

Draco sneered at the name.

His father's words rang in his ears. _"If you can't get through one lousy Student Senate meeting without making a complete imbecile out of yourself, how can I expect you to take over the family business? How can I even consider you family?_" Draco had thought hard about telling him off. He never wanted to be part of this family, never wanted to deal with the shady family business that had kept Malfoys employed for years.

But denying his parentage would mean denying his mother. His mother, who always nursed Draco's wounds - physical and emotional - after his father had 'dealt' with him. His mother, who had stood up for Draco as often as she could. His mother, who was alone in Malfoy Manor with his very angry father.

No, he couldn't let her deal with him on her own. She had protected him and, even hundreds of miles away, Draco had to try to not make everything worse.

It would help if he wasn't alone all the time, though. If he didn't have hours by himself in his single dorm - paid for by his father - and if he had some friends who could actually talk to him. Draco had been alone his whole life. He supposed he could go on being alone for longer. But it hurt when he saw other people forming friendships he knew he could never have. Sure, he had Crabbe and Goyle, but those buffoons hardly had a genuine thought of their own. He wanted someone to challenge him, someone who he actually needed to put effort in with. He liked a challenge.

But tonight, he was unhappy when he was challenged. By that prissy girl he had seen around campus. Whenever he noticed her, her nose was either in a book or high up in the air, like she was above everyone else. And _she_ had called _him_ out! She called him a bully!

Okay, admittedly, he had been bullying that poor sap. But he was an easy target for laughs. Draco remembered, briefly, the moment when everyone in the room laughed at his jokes. He felt a certain euphoria, like the future in front of him was bright. People thought he was funny, and being funny was a sure way to find friends.

And then _Hermione Granger_ had to step in and shame everyone for liking him. Surely no one would speak to him after that. He was a pariah once again.

"Well," he said to himself, throwing his arm over his face, "You did it to yourself, you complete imbecile."

He shut his eyes hard. And then Hermione Granger had to show him up again by presenting her forms for the position of Freshman Representative - the position that _he _should have. He hadn't been worried when he thought he was running unopposed. But now he was running against a girl who had turned the whole room against him in a matter of moments. He sighed deeply.

His father would be so disappointed in him.

He got up from his bed and sluggishly reached for his minifridge. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. He took a quick swig, then winced. Gin still didn't appeal to him. But it was the only drink his father wouldn't touch, so, out of spite, he decided it would be his favorite.

Pouring himself a glass, he sat at his desk and pulled his laptop into his lap. He leaned back slightly in the chair, taking another swig of his drink. He put the glass down on his desk and began his research. He would find a way to make this Granger girl a pariah, just like she made him.

**AN: I know I haven't updated in a while, so I'll try to update more frequently over the next few days! Thank you for all the support. It means a lot to know people are enjoying my writing!**

**Review please**


	7. Harry Plays Tennis

"I thought you said you wouldn't make me play in some stupid tennis game?" Ron whined, while lacing his sneakers. Harry surveyed the the school-issued tennis racquet. He had never played a single match, but Oliver Wood trusted him to put together a tournament between dorms, and Harry wanted to succeed. Something about Oliver made Harry want to impress him. Maybe it was the way he spoke about sports - like they meant everything in the world to him. Not to mention the fact that, since he laid eyes on Harry, he couldn't stop talking about how Harry was the future of the Campus Sports Leagues, and how Oliver was expecting great things from him.

Harry only felt a tiny bit of pressure.

"We needed three Gryffindor teams," Harry responded. "And no one else wanted to do it. Plus, you keep talking about how you want to beat up those Slytherin douches - this is an easy way to get your anger out on them."

With a huff, Ron stood up. "We're playing against _Slytherin?_" he asked. His face turned sour. "You realize I got shot down from every team I tried out for, right? I don't think tennis is really my forte."

"Or any sport, obviously," Harry said with a sly grin. Ron gave him an impolite hand gesture. "It's not like we're playing against professional tennis players out there."

Ron shot a look at the two Slytherins they were playing against. Harry looked too, trying to gauge their athleticism. He knew their names from the roster - Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis. The two girls hit a tennis ball between them, their personal racquets gleaming in the afternoon sun. Harry looked back at his own. He was used to hand-me-downs and using things that were worse for wear, but a knot formed in his gut when he thought about playing against these Slytherins who were clearly quite good.

"When do we start?" Ron grumbled. "Let's get this over with as quick as possible."

Harry looked around for the referee. He recognized the girl, Alicia Spinnet. She worked with him and Oliver, and was a good tennis player herself, if Harry remembered correctly. He approached her referee stand.

"We're ready when they are," Harry said, motioning towards the Slytherins with a nod of his head.

"Got it," Alicia said. She lowered her voice, so only Harry could hear. "Listen, I know I shouldn't have favorites, but I really want Gryffindor to win the Dorm Championships this year. We win points during CSL tournaments like this. So...don't fuck up, please." She gave Harry a wink, and the knot in his stomach grew tighter.

He went back to Ron. "Are you ready?" he asked, trying to hide his apprehension about the game.

Ron gave him a queasy look before stealing himself in place, holding his racquet in front of him. Harry caught Pansy's eye and nodded. She shot him a confident smile before she and her teammate got into their positions.

Slytherin served first, shooting the tennis ball at a spot directly to the right of Ron. He moved towards it, but it was too fast for him. He stumbled to keep himself on his feet as the ball flew past him, then out of bounds. He looked at Harry apologetically, but Harry waved him off. He didn't expect himself to be much better. Bitterly, he hoped the other two Gryffindor teams had a better outcome than he and Ron were destined for.

Slytherin served again, directly at Harry. He fumbled with his racquet before half-heartedly hitting the ball back. It fell short, hitting the net and bouncing back to him. He huffed as he threw the ball back to Slytherin for their third serve.

The game was short-lived and ill-fated for the Gryffindor team. Harry and Ron held their heads down in shame as they trekked off the court. The two Slytherin girls cheered and hugged each other. Alicia had tried to make the two teams shake hands at the end of the match, but neither felt inclined to prolong contact with each other. Alicia followed Harry and Ron back to their dorms.

"That was sad," she remarked. The boys said nothing in response, so she kept talking. "I mean, it's like neither of you have ever even played before! I'm sure Angelina and I will be better when we play Ravenclaw tomorrow, but it would have been nice if our team had a good start, you know? Your brothers won't be happy when they hear about this, Little Weasley." Ron's shoulders fell even more. "Or Oliver, Harry." Harry scowled.

"Want to get dinner, Ron?" Harry asked pointedly. He knew he could count on his friend's stomach to get them away from Alicia's harping.

But Ron shook his head. "I think I just want to lie down," he mumbled in response. "Maybe take a shower."

Harry discreetly nudged his friend in the ribs, shooting him a wide-eyed look. Ron yelped. "Ow- Ah," he said, noticing Harry's expression. The two boys turned to Alicia, putting on their best innocent faces. "M-my stomach is trying to eat itself. We should really get dinner now."

"Good idea," Harry chimed in. "I'm _starving_."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Alright, you two," she said. She hastened towards the dorm, mumbling as she passed by them. "Not that you _deserve_ dinner with that terrible playing. Really. Just horrible."

Harry and Ron turned towards the dining hall, anxious to get as far away from Alicia as possible. It wasn't until they were sitting down at the Gryffindor table that they broke their silence.

"I don't know what was more fun," Ron said, picking at his fries. "Getting our asses handed to us by those Slytherins, or being yelled at about it by Alicia."

"I mean, she had a point," Harry responded with a small smirk. Ron gave him a surprised look. "We really were 'just horrible. And absolute disgrace to Gryffindors everywhere.'" The boys chuckled at Harry's impression of Alicia.

"Did you see the look on Alicia's face when I whacked the ball at her?" Ron laughed.

"Or when I tripped over the net?" Harry said.

As the boys recounted the humorous moments of their failed tennis match, Hermione sat down alone at the Gryffindor table, a few seats away from them. She placed a large textbook against a napkin holder and proceeded to devour the words on the pages faster than her actual food. Harry kicked Ron and nodded in Hermione's direction.

"What d'you think is so interesting that she can't stop reading it during dinner?" Harry whispered.

Ron squinted to read the cover of her textbook. "'Women in Law: How the Females of the Next Generation Are Influenced By Those From the Past,'" he read. "Seems positively _enthralling_. You should ask her where she got it - I'd love a copy for myself."

The boys snickered, and Hermione shot them a dangerous look. Harry and Ron both clammed up, pretending to focus on the plates in front of them. Hermione went back to reading, and Harry and Ron shared a smile.

Harry suddenly felt a sharp slap on his back, which made him cough up his drink. Ron snorted, and Harry rounded on the person behind him.

Oliver Wood gave him a toothy smile. "You got a little soda on your chin," he laughed. Harry quickly wiped his face. "How did the tennis tournament go today? Alicia told me you sucked."

Harry looked around the dining hall for the offending source of gossip, but Oliver only laughed. "Tennis isn't everybody's game," he said, slapping Harry on the back again. "I mean, I can't say I'm not disappointed that you lost us valuable points. We really need to work to win the next few rounds. But I'm glad you two played, at least."

Ron grimaced and turned back to his food. "Yeah, it was hard to find people who actually wanted to play," Harry explained.

"You two really stepped up," Oliver said, sitting on the bench next to Harry. "I've only known you for a month or so, Harry - and, while I've heard stories from your brothers about you, Little Weasley, I don't know you that well either. But I have an offer for you both, if you're interested."

Oliver had lowered his voice, forcing Harry and Ron to lean in. "What kind of offer?" Harry asked, matching Oliver's tone.

"Have you ever heard of Gryffindor's secret society?" he asked, looking from Harry to Ron in a conspiratory way.

Ron nodded his head. "Yeah. A few of my brothers have mentioned something about the Lion," he responded. Harry shook his head.

"It's kind of like Hogwarts's version of fraternities," Oliver explained. "We have an off-campus house, leadership positions available, and a whole lot of booze. This semester, we plan on rushing a few people we think would be into joining. I recommended you, Harry. Ron, your brothers recommended you."

Harry felt his face go red. Oliver wanted him to join a secret society? It all seemed very suspicious. Why would he want Harry, of all people? He could understand Ron getting in - he knew a lot of older students because of his family, and he could certainly act like a frat brother sometimes. But Harry was a quiet person, and he didn't know a lot of people on campus. For all he knew, the Lion wasn't even real. Oliver and Ron's older brothers might just be using this to mess with the freshmen - which wasn't unheard of at Hogwarts.

"What would we have to do?" Harry asked instead of the other hundred questions he was burning to ask.

"If you're interested, just tell me by tomorrow," Oliver responded. "You'd pledge this semester, and by next semester you guys would be brothers."

Ron snorted. "If we pass the pledging ceremony," he added bluntly.

Oliver's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "It seems like your brothers have told you a bit more about the Lion than they should have," he said. Ron nodded, a challenging look in his eyes. "Well, you won't have to do anything you don't want to. We don't condone anything too...crass. But, yeah, there will be some drinking involved, and probably some way to scare you guys. Nothing that will hurt you, of course." Oliver paused. "You retain the right to say no to anything without hurting your chances of getting in. Just… think about it and let me know."

The older boy stood up and slapped Harry on the back once more for good measure. When he was gone, Harry rounded on Ron. "What's that all about?" he asked.

Ron shook his head, returning to what was left of his meal. "Like Oliver said, it's like the campus's frat," he explained. "Every house has one. Pledges all go through a bit of hazing, but Fred and George said the school cracked down on it their year and, since then, it hasn't been so bad. When Bill pledged, he had to dye his hair pink. When Charlie pledged, his pledgemaster drove a bunch of the pledges into the National Park and left them there to find their way home. Turns out, they were only about a mile from campus."

"Still, that sounds…"

"Scary? Insane? Yeah, I thought so, too," Ron said. He finished the last of his soda with a gulp and pushed his plate away from himself. "Fred and George said they just have a big party now. Each pledge has to drink a fifth of their drink of choice throughout the night. Then the brothers take a vote on who they like, and the pledges become brothers. From what Oliver says, it seems like we can say no to the drinking, which is nice."

Harry mulled this over. His friend looked deep in thought. "Do you want to do it?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron responded. He laid his head on the table. "All my brothers have, so I guess I should at least try it. What's the worst that can happen?"

"The worst that could happen is you die of alcohol poisoning," Hermione piped up. Both boys turned to her in shock.

"Have you been listening to our whole conversation?" Ron exclaimed.

"I'm only sitting two seats away from you," Hermione said snidely. "It's hard to read when you're all sitting here talking about secret societies and other nonsense."

"What do you care?" Ron asked icily.

"I'd care if you killed yourselves because some idiots hazed you," she hissed.

"Keep your voices down," Harry advised, looking around to see if the people around them were watching. Ron and Hermione didn't seem to care, though.

Ron's neck flushed red. "They wouldn't kill us," he said. "They're just having fun. I'm sorry if that's a new concept for you."

Hermione sniffed indignantly. "My version of fun doesn't include forcing others to drink themselves silly," she retorted. She gathered her books and plates before standing. "I know you don't care what I have to say, but you shouldn't go around doing something that could kill you. Or worse, get you expelled." She turned on her heel and headed out of the dining hall, depositing her plates in the recycling bin.

Ron looked at Harry in astonishment. "She needs to sort out her priorities," he said. Harry nodded in agreement.

**AN: Shamelessly sneaking in my favorite Romione moments? Check!**

**Thanks for reading everyone! This story has been floating around my brain for a while now, and I appreciate all the views and favorites. Review please!**


	8. Ron Makes a Mistake

Ron Weasley hated math class more than anyone else on the planet. He was sure of it. Not only were the theories hard to understand, but the professor who taught the class was, _by far_, his least favorite.

Professor Snape seemed to leave a trail of slime in his wake. Ron cringed every time he glanced at his professor, who would skulk around the students in his classroom. The first half of the class was a lecture that often bored Ron to the point of doodling poorly drawn pictures of Snape dying in various ways. Already a month in, Ron had surpassed the usual deaths (fire, being crushed, drowning, and the like) and had had to move onto more unique ways to kill Snape off.

The second half of the class was no better. Snape would hand out a packet full of equations based on the material he had just lectured on. Each student was to answer all of the questions without the use of their textbooks (_Why even make us buy the textbook, then?_ Ron fumed). If they weren't done by the end of class, they had to finish the packet for homework, as well as take an online quiz that was thirty questions long.

Ron never finished his packet in class, of course. Almost no one in the class did. Except Hermione Granger.

Ron glared at the back of her head as she raised her hand. Snape was only fifteen minutes into his lecture about limits, and sneered at Hermione for interrupting his lecture.

"Miss Granger?" he said, clearly unhappy that she had anything to say at all.

Hermione asked her question so fast that Ron had a difficult time understanding what she said. Snape, on the other hand, did not have this problem. "If you had done the reading for today's class, you would know that indeterminate forms are _not_ the end all of the equation," he jeered.

Instead of listening to the rest of Snape's answer, Ron turned his attention back to his doodle of Snape being roasted on a spit. He had added doodles of himself and Harry roasting marshmallows by the same fire that burned Snape. Ron sniggered.

"Something to share, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked, amused he had caught Ron off-guard.

"Not really," Ron answered, his face going red. He quickly scribbled over his drawing, slightly morose at the fact he couldn't show Harry later.

"It would benefit you to pay attention in my class," Snape said. "Your last quiz results were not promising." Ron thought it would benefit him more if he could deck Snape on his great, big nose. Perhaps that would be his next doodle.

An hour later, Snape dismissed the class with a wave of his hand. Ron wasted no time shoving his books into his backpack. He couldn't handle being in this classroom any longer than he had to. Of course, math was a general education requirement. He wished he had taken the math class that taught students how to do their taxes and invest in stock, like Harry did.

It wasn't that Ron was bad at math. Quite the opposite, actually. He had a mind for logic puzzles, and, if given the time, he could figure out most of the problems that Snape threw at him. He just lacked the will to actually do Snape's work well. He hated the professor before he had even come to Hogwarts. All of his brothers had taken courses with him, and they all agreed that he was not interested in teaching - rather, he was interested in belittling his students.

It was no wonder that the math department was the smallest department in the school. With Snape as the Chair of the entire department, who would want to declare math as a major?

Ron quickly strode out of the classroom, eager to head back to the common room to hang out with Harry. Last night they had decided the would pledge the Lion together, and Ron hoped Harry had some news about it.

"Wait up!" a voice called. Ron turned to see Hermione rushing towards him. Instead of stopping to wait for the girl, he continued at his usual pace away from her.

Even though his legs were much longer than hers, she caught up to him relatively fast. He didn't look at her as he spoke. "What do you want?" he asked with an icy tone.

"I'm sorry I was eavesdropping yesterday," she said while trying to catch her breath. "I know it's none of my business, but I was worried about you two."

"You're right. It's none of your business." Ron swerved to avoid a student riding a bicycle past him on the sidewalk.

Hermione caught up again. "I don't think it was fair of Snape to call you out in class," she continued, ignoring Ron's cold shoulder routine. "But if you need help with math, you can always ask. I haven't gotten below a 95 on any of the quizzes yet, and I could tutor you or something, if you need-"

Ron stopped short and turned to look at her. "I'm doing just fine," he stated. "I don't need your help. And if I did need tutoring, I'd ask _anyone_ besides you." Without waiting for her reaction he continued towards the dorm at a quicker speed. Hermione didn't follow him.

~ooOoo~

"It's like she thinks I'm the dumbest person on the planet," Ron complained to Harry later that evening in the common room. They sat at a table in the back corner to avoid having to talk to anyone else. Harry had a mountain of books in front of him for a research paper due next week, but he kept finding himself checking his phone to see if Oliver texted him back. Ron sat facing the window, his back to the entrance of the girls' dorms. He had been unsuccessfully trying to finish Snape's packet. Every time he attempted to focus, Hermione's patronizing words came back at him.

"She was just trying to help," Harry said, only half-listening.

"Yeah, well, her version of helping seems to be telling me what to do," Ron seethed. "It's bad enough I have a mom who won't stop nagging me, or brothers who keep telling me to do better, or a whole family legacy to live up to, but now I have this beaver-looking girl who's decided I'm her own personal charity case." Ron huffed.

Harry only nodded in agreement. Ron rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Sure, she's smart, but she's not as smart as she thinks she is," Ron continued, content with raving out loud to himself. "She has a stick so far up her ass I'm surprised she can walk right. It's no wonder she doesn't have any friends - who would want to spend their time with such a bossy know-it-all. Even being in the same room as her is like a nightmare."

"_Ron_." Harry looked pointedly behind Ron, and the redhead turned to see what he was looking at.

Hermione stood in the doorway of the girls' dorm with a hand over her mouth. Her face was pink and her eyes were puffy, like she was about to cry. She looked at Ron in disgust before she turned around to head back into the dorm.

Ron quickly spun around to look at Harry. "How long do you think she was there?" he asked, panicked.

Harry shook his head. "Long enough to hear you call her a _nightmare_," his friend chided. "You'd better apologize before your brothers hear you made her cry."

Ron groaned and let out a string of expletives. "I was just letting off some steam," he explained. "I didn't mean for her to hear any of it. I'm such a dick." Harry nodded in agreement before turning back to his phone. Ron leaned down to bang his head on the table in front of him.


End file.
